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<h1><a href="https://archiveofourown.org/works/27598565">Omovember 2020</a> by <a class='authorlink' href='https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiddikulusDL/pseuds/RiddikulusDL'>RiddikulusDL</a></h1>

<table class="full">

<tr><td><b>Category:</b></td><td>Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Genre:</b></td><td>Bed-Wetting, Desperation, Diapers, Gen, Omorashi, Omutsu, Pee, Wetting</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Language:</b></td><td>English</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Status:</b></td><td>In-Progress</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Published:</b></td><td>2020-11-17</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Updated:</b></td><td>2020-11-21</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Packaged:</b></td><td>2021-05-07 00:36:07</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Rating:</b></td><td>Mature</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Warnings:</b></td><td>No Archive Warnings Apply</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Chapters:</b></td><td>14</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Words:</b></td><td>15,700</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Publisher:</b></td><td>archiveofourown.org</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Story URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/works/27598565</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Author URL:</b></td><td>https://archiveofourown.org/users/RiddikulusDL/pseuds/RiddikulusDL</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Summary:</b></td><td><div class="userstuff">
              <p>A series of drabbles for Omovember 2020. All will be Harry Potter characters. Some stories may continue off others, but most will be standalone.  All of them will feature some form of desperation, wetting, or both. A few may contain additional tidbits, but we'll see how the stories progress. Hope you kinky readers enjoy! :)</p>
            </div></td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Comments:</b></td><td>13</td></tr>

<tr><td><b>Kudos:</b></td><td>70</td></tr>

</table>

<a name="section0001"><h2>1. A Formal Situation</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hermione is in desperate need of the loo, but she's stuck at the Yule Ball. What will she do?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>A Formal situation: The Yule Ball (4th year)<br/>
----------------------------</p><p>Hermione took one last look in the mirror at her reflection. She smiled. She had never felt so beautiful before. She spun around to see her dress robes billow around her. Perfect.</p><p>She was supposed to meet Viktor for dinner before the ball, so she hurried out of Gryffindor Tower before anyone saw her. She snuck around corners until she reached the entrance hall, then slipped outside to the grounds. Nervously, she approached the shore of the Great Lake.</p><p>Viktor stood at the dock, looking quite handsome in his fur-lined dress robes. It was true that his forehead was a tad large, and his nose a bit crooked, but his looks were unimportant when compared with his strong, quiet personality. Hermione smiled again as she approached him.</p><p>“Herm-own-ninny,” Viktor said haltingly. “You are beautiful.”</p><p>She blushed. “Thanks, Viktor. You look great, too.”</p><p>“Shall we?” he asked, holding out his arm for her to take.</p><p>She placed her arm through his. “Lead the way.”</p><p>------------------</p><p>They wound up eating a small dinner at Madam Puddifoot’s. It was objectively the nicest place in Hogsmeade to have a romantic meal. Hermione had to fight back her disgust at the décor, but her nervousness was more than enough to keep it at bay.</p><p>Hermione tried to converse with Viktor as they ate their meal, but the language barrier kept things from flowing naturally. To fill up the awkward silences, Hermione kept drinking more and more tea. Eventually, Viktor stood up to escort her back to Hogwarts for the ball.</p><p>Everyone’s awe at Hermione’s appearance was almost insulting, if she let herself think about it. She stalwartly refused to look in Ron’s direction as they passed him and Padma. She still hadn’t quite forgiven him for the comment about her being a girl. That boy was daft and rude. He didn’t deserve her attention.</p><p>-------------------</p><p>After an hour or so of being gawked at, Hermione was finally beginning to feel uncomfortable. It was almost like her classmates didn’t think she had the ability to look beautiful in the first place. It was hurtful to consider it. Instead of lingering on potentially painful thoughts, she let Viktor drag her onto the dance floor, where they had a blast listening to the Weird Sisters.</p><p>When it became too hot to continue dancing among the packed bodies of her schoolmates, Hermione and Viktor retired to the tables. Viktor offered to go get them both some punch, and she sat down with a happy sigh. She was having a better time than she thought she would when they’d been eating dinner.</p><p>It was at this moment that Hermione’s bladder gave a noticeable twinge. Her eyes widened at the memory of how much tea she’d had with dinner. They’d gone through two full teapots, and Viktor had maybe refilled his own cup once. Hermione knew she’d need a bathroom break soon.<br/>
Viktor returned to her side and handed her a tall goblet of pumpkin juice. She stared at the condensation running down the side, realizing just how hot and thirsty she was from dancing so much. She knew it was a bad idea, but she took a long drink from her goblet anyway. It tasted so good. She kept taking sips until it was all gone.</p><p>Hermione was about to excuse herself to the restroom when Viktor pulled her back to the dance floor. She felt guilty about possibly abandoning him when he was in the middle of a group of people he didn’t really know. She would be able to hold on just a little bit longer. After all, she wasn’t completely desperate just yet.</p><p>------------------</p><p>An hour and a half later, Hermione was officially feeling the onset of panic. She had to pee so badly, but she and Viktor were in the middle of a huge group, and there was barely any room to move around, let alone push her way out of the crowd. Dancing was helping a little bit, as she was able to hide some of her desperation by bending over on occasion. But her bladder muscles were getting so tired, right along with the rest of her.</p><p>The Weird Sisters began to play a slow ballad, and Viktor pulled her close to him and began swaying. She smiled at him, trying to hide her discomfort. Being pressed against his hard body was not good for her straining bladder. It definitely didn’t help that she couldn’t bend over or grab herself to hold back her pee.</p><p>The song was halfway over when it finally happened. A spurt of pee made its way into her panties, and she bit back a gasp. She didn’t have much longer. She’d only been this desperate a few times in her life, and she knew she had maybe a minute or two before she had a complete accident. She couldn’t bear the thought of that happening in public like this.</p><p>“Viktor,” she said, raising on tiptoe to whisper in her date’s ear. “Please excuse me. I’ll be right back.”</p><p>“Herm—” he began.</p><p>She ran off before he could protest any further. The movement was not helping her bladder any, and another trickle of pee leaked out. Hermione had to stop and bend over in the corridor to regain control of her bladder. Oh, she was about to fully wet herself right there.</p><p>Hermione bunched up a fistful of her dress robes and shoved it between her legs before continuing her desperate trek to the first-floor bathroom. But when she reached the door, girly giggling was coming from the other side. She just couldn’t go in there looking like this.</p><p>Instead, she slipped into the broom closet a little farther down the hall and muttered a quick locking charm on the door. She danced in place, trying her utmost not to simply wet herself. There had to be a bucket or something in here. But it was dark, and she now had both hands wedged between her legs as she tried to hold back the flood. She couldn’t use her wand for light.</p><p>All of a sudden, her bladder gave a painful lurch and contracted. Pee burst out of her in a torrent, and with a little screech she pulled her hands out of her crotch. Her head fell back in a mix of shame and relief at finally being able to let go. Her pee gushed out of her, drenching her panties, pantyhose, and shoes. The sound against the stone floor was thunderous.</p><p>After what must have been a full minute, her flow slowed to a trickle and stopped. Hermione stood there panting. She couldn’t believe what she’d just done. She hadn’t had an accident like this in years. Thankfully, she was at school, so cleanup would be easy enough.</p><p>She pulled her wand from her little sleeve pocket, performed a few cleaning spells, and slipped back out of the broom closet. Nobody seemed to have noticed her, and she was relieved for that. There was nothing left to do but return to Viktor and the best night of her life.</p><p>So she did.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0002"><h2>2. An Inconvenient Location</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Draco finds himself in a sticky situation during Care of Magical Creatures.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>An Inconvenient Location: Care of Magical Creatures (5th year)<br/>----------------------------------------------------</p><p>Draco Malfoy was in quite a predicament. It was the first Care of Magical Creatures lesson of fifth year, and the substitute professor—Grubbly-Plank, he thought her name was—had ushered them all into the Forbidden Forest. He sneered in the direction of the girls. They had all crowded around the unicorns in the small paddock. Even Pansy had ditched him to go coo at the beasts.</p><p>It wasn’t that he was disgusted with the unicorns so much as it was that he needed to take a piss. It was bad. He had woken up late that morning, and hadn’t had time to take a leak before he had to rush to class. Charms had been a full two hours—everything was more intense thanks to OWLs—and Transfiguration had followed immediately after. Then they’d had to run all the way down to Care of Magical Creatures, which was far enough from the castle that he was often late on normal days. After this class, he had to go to Herbology. He’d never make it that much longer.</p><p>Draco bounced on the balls of his feet, clenching his muscles as tight as he could. Salazar, his bladder was so full. He was honestly surprised he hadn’t gotten up in the middle of the night to piss, considering how much pumpkin juice he’d consumed at dinner. But he hadn’t, and now he was paying the price.</p><p>When his bladder spasmed, he reached through his robe pocket to squeeze his dick. He half bent over and leaned against a tree behind him, trying so hard to look casual and bored. Malfoys didn’t show emotion in public. He had to keep control.</p><p>He reached into his other pocket and used both hands to squeeze himself. He felt like his bladder was about to explode. Just when he thought he couldn’t take any more, a spurt of pee burst out of him, despite his tight grip on his cock. He bit his cheek and clenched his muscles even tighter. He managed to stop the flow, but not before he’d significantly dampened his briefs and dress pants. His only saving grace was that he was wearing a robe.<br/>Sweet Salazar, his fingers were even wet. This couldn’t be happening. He hadn’t wet himself since he was at least seven, and he’d been beaten rather severely when that incident occurred. His father had been furious. The memory of his anger was just enough to give Draco the strength to hold on. He straightened back up, but kept his hands in his robe pockets.</p><p>He smirked to himself. It was working. He would be just fine. He could slip away a couple minutes early to relieve himself before Herbology. And change his clothes. Draco resolved to do just that when his bladder gave the most painful pang yet. Despite his best efforts, pee burst out of him and soaked his fingers once more. He clenched his muscles as tight as he could, but it wasn’t enough to stop the flood, not anymore. If he didn’t do something soon, everyone around him would know he was pissing himself.</p><p>In an attempt to act casual, Draco flung himself to the forest floor and leaned his chin on his hand. “I’m bored,” he complained to Crabbe and Goyle.<br/>Both of his goons sat beside him, completely unaware that he was still pissing hard into his trousers.</p><p>“Yeah,” Crabbe grunted. “Boring.”</p><p>Goyle just nodded his agreement.</p><p>Draco fought back the bliss that came with emptying his bladder. He couldn’t let anyone know what was happening underneath his robe. But he wanted so desperately to throw his head back and sigh in relief. It felt so good to finally let go. It took nearly a minute for his pee to slow and taper off.</p><p>As the feeling of relief wore off, Draco’s heart began pounding in anxiety. He was probably drenched to his knees from all that piss. Would he manage to sneak away without anyone knowing he’d wet himself? He couldn’t risk a trip back to the castle to change now. Not when there was a chance someone would see or smell the evidence. A quickly whispered cleaning spell would have to do.</p><p>He slipped his wand into his hand, just enough for the tip to poke out but remain hidden by his sleeve and palm. He muttered a quick Scourgify and was relieved when it worked. He would just take an extra long shower before bed. He determined that he would never get caught in this situation again. If he had to set an alarm for the middle of the night to make himself take a leak, he would. Whatever the cost, he would pay it. He was a Malfoy, after all, and Malfoys didn’t piss their pants.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0003"><h2>3. Sick/Exhausted</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Harry just wants to sleep after the ordeal he's been through in the Triwizard Tournament.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Sick/exhausted: After the last Triwizard task (4th year)<br/>
-------------------------------------</p><p>Harry slumped backward in the bed in the hospital wing. He simply couldn’t function any longer. He’d not only lived through the ordeal with Voldemort in the graveyard, he’d had to relive it by telling Dumbledore and Sirius. He didn’t want to think about anything ever again. Not when it caused this much grief.</p><p>His bladder twinged. Godric, he had to pee. He’d actually needed a bathroom break before ever entering the accursed maze, but he’d been too nervous to squeeze out a drop. And then the adrenaline of being in the maze, of being whisked away to the graveyard and battling for his life, that had kept his need at bay. But now that he was laying still and everyone had left him alone for a moment, his need returned tenfold.</p><p>But Harry was so tired. Every part of his body ached. He didn’t think he could stand up even if he wanted to. And he really didn’t want to. Madam Pomfrey had helped him change out of his tattered and filthy clothes and into a nice pajama set when he’d arrived, and he had just taken a swig of a Sleeping Draught. He was warm and fuzzy-headed.</p><p>With one last thought to his filling bladder, Harry drifted to sleep.</p><p>---------------------</p><p>He dreamed he was back in the maze, but this time the goal was to find a toilet. He had to pee so bad, but he kept hitting dead ends. The hedges kept shifting around him, making it nearly impossible to find his way to the center. Still, he continued running, praying that his bladder would hold on until he found the toilet.</p><p>His bladder gave a painful lurch, and a trickle of pee escaped. Harry gasped and doubled over, dancing in place to keep the rest of his pee in. He reached one hand into his trousers and grabbed his cock, then hurried as fast as he could around another corner, then another.</p><p>Yet again, a burst of warm pee wet his fingers. He wasn’t going to make it much longer, he knew. And then, just when he thought he was going to wet himself, he spotted it: the golden toilet.</p><p>Harry gripped his cock a little tighter and ran to the toilet. He’d found it. He would be okay. He reached around with his free hand and unzipped his fly, then hurriedly freed his dick from his briefs. Pee sprayed out of him like a fire hose, and the relief was instantaneous. He moaned at the sweet feeling of finally emptying his bladder. It was heaven.</p><p>---------------------</p><p>Harry’s eyes fluttered briefly. He felt the warmth spreading from his groin to his legs, pooling down around his arse, and realized tiredly that he was peeing. He was so tired and sore that he didn’t have the energy to stop the flow. At that point, he didn’t really even care that he was pissing himself. He just wanted to go back to sleep.</p><p>When the last few trickles had left his body, he settled deeper into his pillows and began to drift back to sleep. Distantly, he heard someone cluck their tongue sympathetically. A warm feeling rushed over him from head to toe, and he was suddenly dry again. And then he was back in a dream world, but this time it was peaceful.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0004"><h2>4. Chapter 4</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Seamus and Dean are on their way to visit Dean's family. Unfortunately, they're traveling the Muggle way, and get stuck in traffic. Chaos ensues.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>There is a bit of M/M in this chapter, though it's just kissing. But if you don't ship it, you can skip this chapter. I won't be offended.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Stuck in traffic: Dean and Seamus (a year after the war ended)<br/>---------------------------------------------------</p><p>“Dean, how much longer till we’re there?” Seamus whined.</p><p>“Shay, we’re stuck in traffic. I don’t know,” Dean said patiently.</p><p>“But I’ve got to piss!”</p><p>“I know, I’m sorry. I can’t do anything about it right now.”</p><p>Seamus fidgeted in his seat and gripped his crotch. “Why didn’t we just Apparate there?”</p><p>“You know how my mum is,” Dean replied softly. “She hates magic ever since the war, and she thinks you and I are living as Muggles.”</p><p>“What?!” Seamus screeched. “You told her we don’t use our magic?”</p><p>He nodded. “I’m sorry, Shay. It was the only way to get her to stop harping on me about living with you. About being with you.”</p><p>Seamus felt his anger melt away instantly. “Oh Dean, you know I’d do anythin’ for ye. If this is what it takes, then I’ll pretend to be a Muggle in front of your mam.”</p><p>Dean took his hand and kissed the back of it. “I love you, Shay. More than you know.”</p><p>Seamus grinned at his boyfriend. “I think it’s the other way ‘round, Dean. I can’t imagine life without ye.”</p><p>Dean looked around them at the traffic, then quickly put the car in park. He leaned over and planted a firm kiss on Seamus’s lips. Seamus relaxed under his boyfriend’s attention and gripped the back of his neck. He flicked his tongue against Dean’s mouth, and Dean moaned appreciatively.</p><p>A car honked its horn at them, effectively ruining the moment. Dean sighed and shifted the car back into gear so he could inch down the expressway another foot or two.</p><p>“Damn, Dean,” Seamus muttered. “That made me have to piss even worse than before.”</p><p>Dean looked chagrined. “I’m sorry.”</p><p>Seamus shook his head. “Worth it, though. You know I’d take your kisses over anythin’ else, ever.”</p><p>“Is that right?” Dean asked, smirking.</p><p>“O’course it is, you daft wanker.”</p><p>“You’re the wanker,” Dean retorted.</p><p>Just then, Seamus’s bladder gave a great pang, and a spurt of piss leaked into his briefs. He doubled over with a groan and gripped his cock with both hands.</p><p>“Shay, you all right?” Dean asked, looking at him in concern.</p><p>He shook his head. “I just leaked a little.”</p><p>“Damn,” Dean muttered. He looked around them at the traffic. “D’you want to jump out and go on the side of the road?”</p><p>Seamus looked at him in horror. “In front of all these people? No way!”</p><p>“It’s not like you’ll ever see them again, Shay.”</p><p>“No. Absolutely not. End of discussion.”</p><p>“But Shay—” Dean started.</p><p>“No, Dean,” Seamus interrupted. “I will not get out o’ this car to go and piss in front of a hundred strangers. I’d get arrested.”</p><p>Dean sighed. “I’m really sorry, love. This wasn’t supposed to happen.”</p><p>“Is it ever supposed to happen like this?” Seamus asked wryly.</p><p>“No, I suppose it’s not.”<br/>Seamus gasped as another spurt of pee left his body. “Dean, have we got a bottle or somethin’ in here? I don’t think I can wait much longer.”</p><p>Dean looked around frantically. “I don’t know.”</p><p>“Hurry, Dean!”</p><p>“I’m trying, I’m trying!”</p><p>Seamus felt his bladder muscles straining to let go, and he began to panic. “I’m not gonna make it much longer, Dean!”</p><p>At the last second, Dean shoved an old water bottle at him. “Here!”</p><p>“Help me out, would ye?” Seamus asked, his voice trembling. “I’ll lose it if I let go now.”</p><p>Dean nodded and swiftly reached over to undo Seamus’s belt. But it was too late. Seamus’s bladder gave one last throb, and then he was peeing in earnest, all over his hands and Dean’s. Seamus leaned his head back against the headrest of the seat and moaned loudly. The relief had never felt so good before. He’d deal with the embarrassment of peeing himself when he was finished.</p><p>A few moments later, his pee trickled to a stop. He opened his eyes and stared at his lap, drenched in urine. Without a word, Dean slipped his wand out and cast a cleaning charm over the both of them.</p><p>Seamus glanced over at his boyfriend, his cheeks burning in embarrassment. “Dean, I—”</p><p>“It’s okay, Shay,” Dean interrupted. “It could happen to anyone.”</p><p>“Yeah, s’pose you’re right,” Seamus muttered. He glanced at his boyfriend. “I’m sorry, though.”</p><p>“For what?” Dean asked, finally looking over at him.</p><p>“I made such a big deal out o’ this,” Seamus said, shrugging. “I dunno, I’m just sorry, I guess.”</p><p>Dean smiled and leaned over to press another kiss to Seamus’s lips. Against his mouth, he whispered, “You know, that moan was kind of hot.”</p><p>Seamus pulled back. “Is that right?”</p><p>Dean nodded. “I think I have a few ideas that might make things interesting tonight.” He swallowed. “If you’re willing, that is.”</p><p>An evil smirk twisted Seamus’s lips. “Can it be you next time?”</p><p>In answer, Dean kissed Seamus deeply. Their tongues twined together, leaving Seamus breathless and desperate for more. Maybe his small bladder would come in handy after all.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0005"><h2>5. Drunk</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Draco is drunk. He has to piss. What will happen?<br/>(Slight continuation of chapter 2, but could be standalone.)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Drunk: Draco at the Leaky Cauldron (several years after the war)<br/>-----------------------------------------------------</p><p>Draco tossed back his shot of Firewhisky. He’d had a fight with Astoria again, so he’d Apparated to the Leaky Cauldron to drown his frustrations. Instead of making the bartender repeatedly bring him new shots, he’d simply paid for an entire bottle and was drinking it at his leisure at a table in the corner. He was probably halfway through the bottle already, but he didn’t feel nearly buzzed enough. So he poured another shot and downed it, too.</p><p>It was as he was swallowing—and grimacing at the burn of the alcohol going down his throat—that his bladder gave its first twinge. Draco knew he ought to just get up and use the loo, but he didn’t want anyone to steal the rest of his liquor while he was gone. What if some barmaid thought he’d left for good and cleaned everything up? That simply wouldn’t do. And he definitely didn’t want to take the bottle into the bathroom with him. Who knew what kind of germs were lurking in there? Instead of listening to his body’s needs, he poured another shot and drank it.</p><p>As Draco continued drinking, his bladder kept rapidly filling. Soon enough he was squirming in his seat. He reached a hand down to squeeze his dick, and as he did, he suddenly flashed back to fifth year when he’d wet himself in Care of Magical Creatures. The memory made his bladder throb with the need to release, and he squeezed himself harder.</p><p>But the longer he sat there reliving the memory, the more he began to remember the glorious feeling of relief when he had finally let go. Draco bounced his right leg up and down, battling the urge to simply go where he sat. His head began to grow fuzzy, and he blinked blurrily at the other people in the bar.</p><p>He glanced at the bottle of Firewhisky. He had about a quarter of the bottle left now. Surely he could finish drinking and still make it to the loo in time. He decided to chance it and took a swig straight from the bottle.</p><p>Just then, a spurt of piss pushed its way out. He gasped loudly, drawing curious glances from those sitting around him. He glared at them and squeezed his dick harder. But another spurt soon followed. Draco began to truly worry that he wouldn’t make it to the loo. He reached a hand inside his pants and directly grabbed himself, thinking perhaps it would help.</p><p>For a few moments it did. Again the memory of pissing himself as a teenager pushed its way to the front of his mind, and he accidentally-on-purpose let loose another stream of pee. This time, his hand loosened around his dick a little bit, and he let a few more dribbles out again. Salazar, it felt good. Maybe too good.</p><p>Draco took another large gulp of Firewhisky and simultaneously let out a large spurt of piss. It felt so good to just let go. The alcohol was definitely going to his head now. When the next leak burst from his dick, he removed his hand from his pants. He was so damp at this point that it honestly no longer mattered if he went to the loo. People would see the growing wet spot and know what he’d been up to.</p><p>He tipped back the last of the bottle of whiskey, fully committed now to just pissing himself again. It had been so long since the incident in fifth year. In his drunken state, Draco found himself wanting to relive it, to remember how the relief felt.</p><p>He sat back in his chair and glanced around subtly before letting loose another longer spurt of pee. He bit back the moan at the sensation of making himself stop. It was on the border of pleasure and pain. He rocked forward in his chair, putting a different sort of pressure on his bladder.</p><p>Draco relaxed just enough for a small trickle of pee to leak from his penis. But as he went to clench his muscles and stop the flow, he found he couldn’t. The trickle quickly turned to a steady stream, then a complete flood. Piss soaked his pants and began pooling in his chair before dripping to the floor. He bit his tongue to keep from groaning at the pleasure of finally emptying his aching bladder.</p><p>Luckily, the noise of the bar covered the sound of his pee flowing from the chair to the floor. When the last few trickles finally dribbled out of his dick, Draco subtly pulled his wand out and cast a quick Tergeo on the floor and chair. He wasn’t so evil that he would leave a mess for the barkeep to clean up. As he shifted in his chair, the warm wetness against his crotch brought a new sensation and need to the front of his mind. He carefully cast the spell again to remove traces of pee from only his pants, leaving his briefs quite damp underneath.</p><p>Draco stood up from his table as calmly as he could in his drunken state and made his way to the bathroom. Once inside, he locked the door. And what he did once inside was nobody else’s business.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0006"><h2>6. Just About Made It</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Harry is in quite a predicament when he finds himself in need of the loo during double Potions. Will he make it in time?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Just about ‘made it’: Double Potions with the Slytherins (5th year)<br/>
------------------------------------------------------</p><p>Harry couldn’t believe his stupidity. He’d known about double Potions all week long. He’d been preparing for it in his own way. Yet here he was, in exactly the predicament he’d been hoping to avoid.</p><p>See, Harry had a rather small bladder. His growth had been stunted by neglect from the Dursleys, and his bladder had suffered worst of all. He couldn’t hold his pee for very long. He usually went to the loo between every class, and he woke up several times in the night to pee. (Although there had been far too many times where he’d slept so soundly that he’d wet the bed...repeatedly.) Because of this, Harry was usually extra careful about taking frequent bathroom breaks, especially before Potions. Snape never let anyone leave his classroom unless they were severely injured or maimed.</p><p>But today he’d made a fatal mistake. He’d been terribly thirsty during lunch and had downed nearly five glasses of ice-cold pumpkin juice. And then he’d forgotten to use the loo before heading to class. He’d been consistent every other day this week about his bathroom breaks, and on the one day he really needed it, he’d forgotten. How could he be so stupid?</p><p>Now he was sitting in the Potions classroom, trying for all he was worth to not pee his pants. He refused to wiggle around too much, because the room was full of Slytherins, and he couldn’t bear the thought of his arch nemesis catching him in such a compromising situation. He’d never live it down. Instead of bouncing his leg or rocking back and forth, Harry had one hand shoved into his pants and he was holding his cock tightly. For most of the lesson it had helped, but now that class was about to start the practical portion, he was growing ever more desperate.</p><p>Harry was almost shaking with the need to pee. He wasn’t sure how he’d make it through the rest of class, because he’d have to let go of his cock in order to prepare potions ingredients. This was a bloody nightmare.</p><p>With anxiety brewing in his stomach, Harry slowly released his cock. A wave of desperation crashed over him, and he clamped down on his bladder muscles to avoid losing it then and there. Some higher power must have been smiling down on him, for he didn’t so much as leak as he stood up to begin his potion.</p><p>Fortunately, he was able to cross his legs while he worked on his potion. And because of the required robes that were standard Hogwarts uniform, nobody was the wiser. A couple of times, when he had a surge of desperation, he “accidentally” dropped something on the floor that he needed just so he could bend over and regain his control. Somehow, he made it to the end of class without flooding his pants.</p><p>When Snape dismissed them, Harry took his sweet time packing up his things. As much as it pained him to wait, he knew he wouldn’t make it out the door without a leak or two, and he didn’t want anyone to witness his humiliation. When Ron and Hermione stopped to wait for him, he waved them on, telling them he needed a bathroom break and he’d meet them back in the common room. Since they were somewhat aware of his consistent need for the bathroom, they nodded and left.</p><p>The second the classroom door closed behind his friends, Harry bent over and shoved both hands into his crotch. He wasn’t sure he’d make it all the way to the bathroom two hallways over. His bladder was simply too full, and he’d held it for too long. But he knew he had to try.</p><p>Harry gingerly removed one hand from his crotch so he could grab his bag and sling it over his shoulder. Then both hands were back to gripping his penis as hard as he could through his clothes. He shuffled to the classroom door and groaned when he realized he’d have to let go of himself again in order to open it. That was the beginning of the end.</p><p>He reached up with his right hand to open the door, and a spurt of pee dampened his briefs. He clenched his muscles and squeezed his dick even harder. When he’d regained a semblance of control, he pulled the door open a little bit and peered into the hallway. He sighed with relief to see it was empty.</p>

<p>He hobbled into the corridor, both hands once again firmly at his crotch. The distance to the bathroom seemed to stretch into infinity. No matter how far Harry felt he got, he could have sworn he wasn’t moving an inch. At long last, he reached the corner and turned left. He was halfway there. He could do this.</p><p>Harry shuffled forward again. Quite unexpectedly, another spurt of pee burst from his cock. He stopped and doubled over, bouncing in place. It took the longest three seconds of his life to stop the flow. At that point, his fingers were damp. He took a deep breath and continued his trek forward.</p><p>He could have cried with relief when he got to the bathroom door. But the thought of a toilet being so close was too much for his overtaxed bladder, and another spurt of pee burst out of him. Harry cried out and clamped down on his muscles once again, but he couldn’t completely stop the trickle of pee that was dribbling into his briefs. He took a chance and let go of his penis in order to rush to a stall.</p><p>Those last few steps marked his downfall. Harry had still been leaking pee as he hurried into the bathroom, and the floodgates opened just as he closed the stall door behind him. He groaned.</p><p>Pee flowed mercilessly from his cock and into his pants. Trails of piss ran down his legs and began forming a puddle under his feet. He could have sat on the toilet to finish, he knew, but the relief of finally emptying his bladder left him shaking too hard to move. He stood there and continued to pee for what felt like an eternity.</p><p>When the last trickles of piss left his bladder, Harry nearly collapsed to the floor. He braced himself against the stall wall and examined the damage. His robe was black, and therefore the wet spot he knew was there wasn’t visible. He moved his robe out of the way to examine his pants. The dark gray was stained nearly black from his crotch to his feet, and it still glistened in most places. Beneath his feet was a sizeable puddle.</p><p>Fortunately, Harry had mastered using Tergeo early in his first year when he’d struggled with wetting the bed more frequently. Now, in fifth year, it only took the briefest wave of his wand to clean up the mess he’d left. He still desperately wanted to take a shower when he was back in Gryffindor Tower, but at least nobody would know he’d pissed his pants.</p>
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<a name="section0007"><h2>7. Outside</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>At a Quidditch game, Hermione finds herself desperate to pee.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Outdoors: Quidditch (6th year)<br/>-------------------------</p><p>Hermione hated Quidditch. But because she loved her boys, she attended every Gryffindor game. Still, she couldn’t remember hating Quidditch more than right now. Why? Because she had to pee. She’d woken up late, with only ten minutes until the match was due to start. She knew just how upset Harry and Ron would be if she missed the first match of the season, so she’d quickly dressed in dark jeans and a jumper and rushed down to the Quidditch pitch. She hadn’t even grabbed breakfast on her way, that’s how much she loved her boys.</p><p>The match had only just started, but already Hermione could barely focus. It had to have been at least ten hours since she last used the loo, and she was feeling it. She crossed one leg over the other and clenched her muscles together. With a deliberately casual air, she placed both hands in her lap and leaned forward the tiniest bit so she could press her fingers against her crotch.</p><p>The added pressure gave her another ten minutes of staying dry, but she knew she wouldn’t last much longer. Hermione bit her tongue hard when the first spurt of pee leaked into her panties. If only she’d set an alarm this morning so she could get here in plenty of time.</p><p>Another longer spurt of pee burst out of her, dampening her fingers. Just as she was truly beginning to panic, she realized that nobody would notice if she snuck down underneath the bleachers and had a good pee there. It was loud and crowded; nobody would be the wiser.</p><p>It was decided. Hermione stood up, trying for all she was worth to keep back the flood. She murmured an excuse to Neville and Luna about getting a better seat to see Ron and began her trek down the long, long staircase. As soon as she was out of sight of the crowd, she clutched herself in desperation once more. Another dribble of pee made its way into her panties, and she contemplated simply letting go in the stairwell. Surely that would be okay, too. But she reminded herself she was stronger than that, and she continued down the stairs as fast as she could without completely wetting herself.</p><p>After what felt like an hour of slow steps and frequent stops to grab her crotch, Hermione finally reached ground level. She looked right and then left to make sure she was truly alone. And then she rushed underneath the bleachers to the patch of grass. She danced in place, pressing her fingers against her pee hole desperately and muttering to herself.</p><p>Hermione took a deep breath and reached with one hand to undo her jeans. Once they were halfway down her thighs, she plopped herself down on the grass and finally opened the floodgates. Pee burst out of her, quickly soaking into the ground beneath her. She leaned back on her hands and let her head fall back. The relief of finally letting go was exquisite.</p><p>Her pee slowed to a trickle and stopped a few moments later, and she awkwardly stood up to assess the damage. Fortunately, her pants had been spared, aside from a sickle-sized wet patch in her crotch. Her panties were another matter entirely, but she’d have to deal with the dampness for now. She hadn’t brought her wand with her to the pitch. She pulled her panties and jeans back up and made her way out from under the bleachers. Yes, she really hated Quidditch.</p>
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<a name="section0008"><h2>8. In a Training Potty</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Hermione hates camping, especially because it's so difficult for girls to pee.<br/>(Yes, I enjoy picking on her.)</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Having to use a training potty: Dartmoor Forest (7th year)<br/>
------------------------------------------------</p><p>Hermione frowned. Harry and Ron were so lucky to be boys when they were camping out like this. They could just whip out their dicks and pee wherever they pleased. She was a different story entirely. If only Yaxley hadn’t held on to her robes when they Apparated out of the Ministry of Magic, she would be able to simply use a normal toilet. But of course they weren’t that lucky.</p><p>Ron was currently resting in the tent, recovering from being Splinched in their getaway. Harry was a few feet away from her, keeping watch. Hermione herself was pacing back and forth in the entry to the tent, fighting back the urge to pee. She was horribly embarrassed that she would have to do this in front of her two dearest friends.</p><p>She certainly wasn’t about to hold herself, knowing either of them could turn around and see her. With a sigh of defeat, she walked inside the tent and fetched her beaded handbag. Then she walked around the back side of the tent where neither of her friends would see her. With a quickly cast Muffliato, Hermione began digging around in her bag for the one thing she’d hoped she would never need on the Horcrux hunt: a training potty.</p><p>Her parents, for whatever unfathomable reason, had kept the small training potty she’d used as a little girl. It was decorated with princesses and unicorns, and it chimed whenever she peed in it. She despised the thing now. But Godric, she had to pee so badly. It had been hours since she’d gotten ready back at Grimmauld Place this morning. She had no choice.</p><p>Hermione placed the training potty on the ground, and stood there looking at it for a moment, shifting her weight from one foot to the other to keep from leaking. The potty was so small. It came approximately ten inches off the ground, which meant she’d practically have her knees up to her ears just to sit and pee. Sometimes she really hated being a girl.</p><p>When she felt pee tickle the edge of her hole and begin to drip into her panties, she knew she was out of time. Hermione pulled down her pants and panties and gingerly lowered herself to sit on the training potty. She was right about the awkward position she’d be in once she perched on the blasted thing. Her knees were level with her chest and sticking out strangely on either side of her body so she could aim better.</p><p>She was beginning to rethink her plan when her body decided she’d held off long enough, and pee burst out of her. Hermione was horrified to realize she hadn’t aimed well enough and was instead peeing on her pants and panties. She clenched her muscles to try and stop the flow, but it was too late for that. She readjusted herself on the training potty and was relieved to hear the patter of her pee gathering inside.</p><p>Merlin, she’d gotten so much pee on her clothes. It was utterly humiliating. Hermione sat there, basking in self-loathing while her pee slowed to a trickle and finally stopped. When she had finished, the stupid potty let out a cheerful tune. She hated that thing so much. She stood up and pulled up her pants and panties. Then she pulled out her wand and cast a few cleaning spells on herself. Luckily there would be no evidence of her mishap. Lastly, she vanished her pee from the training potty. Maybe the next time she had to pee she would just sit on the ground.</p>
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<a name="section0009"><h2>9. Testing the Limit</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Dean Thomas likes to wet himself. One day, he decides to see just how much his bladder can take.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Testing the limit: Dean (6th year)<br/>
----------------------------</p><p>Dean Thomas had a filthy secret. He liked to pee his pants. He discovered this side of himself when he was about 10. He’d been outside playing and was “too busy” to go use the loo. He ended up wetting himself in the backyard. He remembered vividly the feeling of the pee coursing down his legs as he just stood there. His urine had been hot and fast. When it was over, he went inside and changed his pants and briefs, and nobody was the wiser.</p><p>A few weeks later, he’d wet himself again, but this time it was more on purpose. He felt the need to pee, and simply let go into his pants instead of leaving his room to go to the loo. That time he’d been caught by his mum. He tried to say he hadn’t made it in time, but it was rather obvious he hadn’t even tried. From that point on, whenever Dean wanted to pee his pants, he made sure to be alone, where nobody else would find out what he was up to.</p><p>As the years went on, Dean discovered new parts of his “hobby” that he enjoyed. His favorite by far was holding his pee until he was absolutely bursting, then rushing to the bathroom and pissing himself in front of the toilet. It became even easier to keep a secret when he started attending Hogwarts. The first spell he mastered was a cleaning spell. That way he could piss himself pretty much anytime he felt like it and nobody would know. It was glorious.</p><p>He had been enjoying this odd hobby for just over six years, but things were starting to get boring. Dean hadn’t had a true accident since the very first one when he was ten. He got it into his head that he absolutely had to experience it again, so he started planning a time to do it.</p><p>The day he finally decided he would force a true accident dawned cold and bright. He had purposely had quite a bit to drink at dinner the night before so that he would wake up already feeling full. It had worked. His bladder was throbbing with the need to release. On any other day, Dean would have just wet himself at that stage of desperation. But not today.</p><p>He faked a trip to the loo so his roommates wouldn’t become suspicious, then went about the rest of his morning routine. At breakfast, he managed to drink two goblets of pumpkin juice, but thought that any more than that would look odd. Fortunately, he’d planned for that, and he filled a water bottle with ice water.</p><p>Dean made it through his first two classes without much trouble. On his way to his third class, he stopped and refilled his water bottle. The sound of the water filling the bottle went straight to his bladder. It twinged angrily, and he had to grab himself to stop a leak. Fortunately, he regained control and made his way to class.</p><p>Potions was probably the worst place to be in the middle of a hold, but Dean had planned it this way on purpose. Nothing made him feel more naughty than desperately needing a piss in the one class he would be unable to leave for a bathroom break. Without fail, every time he held on a day with Potions class, his desperation skyrocketed and he wound up pissing himself afterward. He half-hoped he’d wet himself during class, just to feel the humiliation. Of course, he knew his control wasn’t slipping that drastically yet, so he probably wouldn’t. If he was being honest, that was for the best. He’d never live it down if he truly pissed himself in front of his classmates. He was sixteen, for Godric’s sake. They would never understand.</p><p>Dean fought hard not to squirm in class when his bladder began protesting even more. He slyly slid his hand into his crotch and gave his dick a firm squeeze. As he did that, he took another long drink from his water bottle.</p><p>------------------</p><p>He made it through Potions without so much as a leak, although it became harder to hold still as the minutes wore on. Dean was finally getting to a truly desperate place by the time lunch rolled around. Thankfully, he didn’t have any more classes after lunch, so he was able to grab a quick snack from the Great Hall and mutter something to his friends about needing to study for an upcoming exam.</p><p>Dean munched on his tuna salad sandwich as he slowly climbed the stairs to the 7th floor. He was headed for the Room of Requirement, where he knew he could be completely alone without risk of getting caught pissing his pants. But it was a bloody challenge climbing each stair without leaking. If he was being honest with himself, he didn’t know if his desperation was real or if he just really wanted to end his hold.</p><p>At long last, Dean reached the Room of Requirement. He hurried inside and instructed the room to not let anyone else in, no matter what. When he turned around, he smirked at the room’s determination of what he needed. Paintings of waterfalls hung on all four walls. One particularly erotic one showed a stream of pee going into a toilet. In one corner, chamber pots were stacked to the ceiling. In the opposite corner, there was a standard urinal and, oddly enough, a Muggle-style drinking fountain. And against the far wall was a bookshelf, but it wasn’t full of books.</p><p>Dean approached it curiously, his desperation momentarily forgotten. Upon reaching it, he still wasn’t sure what was on the shelf, so he reached out and poked one of the packages that rested on the middle shelf. It fell over, revealing a cover that had a picture of a diaper. His eyes widened. The Room of Requirement had provided him with diapers.</p><p>His brow furrowed as he considered it. Diapers were a rather convenient way of wetting oneself without anyone noticing, he conceded. At the moment, he didn’t have the desire to try one. He was going to go through with his accident. But maybe it wouldn’t hurt to try them in the future. Dean pulled out his wand and shrank a few of the packs of diapers, then shoved them in his robe pocket. He’d experiment with those later.</p><p>Now that he’d finished his brief diaper adventure, he returned to finishing his hold. He downed the rest of his water and went to the drinking fountain to refill his bottle once more. Again, the sound of the water filling the bottle caused his bladder to throb almost painfully. Dean began dancing in place as he waited for the bottle to fill. He was getting so desperate to pee.</p><p>He slowly sipped from the bottle as he made his way to the couch. He was determined to pretend he didn’t have to piss until it was too late. He sat down and pulled out a book. He crossed one leg over the other, grabbed his crotch with his left hand, and proceeded to read.</p><p>------------------</p><p>It wasn’t much longer until Dean’s desperation peaked. He was constantly fidgeting, and he couldn’t focus on his book. He reached both hands inside his pants to directly grab his cock. That helped for only a short while.</p><p>He rocked back and forth, knowing all the while that his time was coming to an end. His heartbeat sped up in anticipation. Only a few minutes later, his bladder contracted and the first spurt of pee was soaked up by his briefs. It felt so good that he had to fight the urge to just let go then and there. It wouldn’t be a true accident if he gave up so close to the finish line.</p><p>Dean sat back on the couch, gripping his dick even harder, and bit his lip. His bladder was full to bursting, and still he retained enough control to keep from wetting himself completely. Who knew he had a bladder made of iron? He mentally started reciting the twelve uses of dragon’s blood to distract himself. It helped, and soon enough the second spurt of pee had escaped.</p><p>When he finished with the uses of dragon’s blood, he started reciting potion ingredients and the potions they were commonly used in. He was even reciting them alphabetically. Dean hadn’t even gotten halfway through C before he felt his control truly slipping. He leaned forward, gasping. Another spurt of pee burst out of his cock. Before he could clench his muscles, a fourth one followed. He was dribbling piss uncontrollably now.</p><p>Dean stood up and began wiggling in place, clenching his dick as hard as he could without injuring himself. But it was no good. After maybe another minute, the dribbling had turned into a steady stream. Reminding himself that he didn’t want to just give up, Dean clenched his muscles and squeezed his thighs together. But the steady stream of his pee continued to flow, and now he could feel it trickling down his leg. The feeling was finally too much for his body to handle, and the floodgates opened.</p><p>He quickly pulled his hands out of his pants as pee gushed out of him. His pants glistened as the wetness trailed down his legs. Dean stood there and watched the pee flow out of him, loving the feeling of relief that came with finally emptying his bladder. The puddle at his feet continued to expand. He felt like he’d never stop pissing. It was ecstasy.</p><p>It must have been another minute before Dean’s pee slowed to a trickle and stopped. His wobbly legs collapsed, and he fell to the floor, landing in his puddle of pee. Godric, it felt so good to finally be empty. He’d never felt such bliss before.</p><p>When Dean finally felt like he could stand again, he fished his wand out of his school bag and cleaned up his mess. As he pondered just how much he’d enjoyed truly losing control, plans began to form in his mind. He would figure out how to make those diapers he’d found leak-proof. And then he would start wearing them as often as possible—every day if he could get away with it. He wanted nothing more than to fully lose control like this again, and he planned to do it during class one of these days. Things were definitely about to get interesting again.</p>
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<a name="section0010"><h2>10. Tied Up</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>One of Fred and George's new products fails in an epic way. Poor Ron.</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Tied up: Ron (summer before 6th year)<br/>---------------------------------</p><p>Ron Weasley hated his older brothers sometimes. While he greatly admired what they did with Weasleys' Wizarding Wheezes, he was not a fan of being an unwilling product tester. And right now, that’s exactly what he was.</p><p>Harry, in his ignorance, had told Fred and George about the Muggle prank of making someone wet the bed by putting their hand in warm water. Naturally, the twins wanted to adapt this for the Wizarding world. The only problem was that they almost always went overboard with their creations.<br/>This one was no different. The Bed-Wetter Bag was supposed to be something a prankster could place over a sleeping friend’s hand. The magic within would then trick the person’s brain into believing they were in the bathroom, and they would wet the bed. But this prototype had failed in a big way.</p><p>Ron had woken up from a short afternoon nap to find a small, purple, drawstring bag over his left hand, with thick ropes that extended up his arm and around his body. He was completely unable to move. The worst part about the failed prototype was that the magic within had somehow filled his bladder to bursting. He hadn’t wet the bed, though. At least there was that.</p><p>His consolation wasn’t much of one, really. He’d shouted for the twins for at least half an hour and received no response. Nobody had come to see what was wrong at all, which made him think everyone was probably outside.</p><p>He squirmed around on the bed. He had to pee so badly, but he couldn’t get free of his bonds, let alone hold his cock to help. It was probably a matter of minutes before he completely lost his battle and wet himself.</p><p>Ron huffed in frustration. He couldn’t believe he was in such an awful predicament. He hadn’t peed himself, nor wet the bed, since he was five years old. And now he was about to do both. It was humiliating. When would Fred and George come back?</p><p>Not soon enough, it seemed. Ron couldn’t fight it when his bladder gave a great lurch and a spurt of pee wet his briefs. He clenched his muscles for all he was worth and managed to stop the leak, but he wouldn’t last much longer. In a fit of desperation, he thought maybe if he rolled off his bed, he’d cause enough of a ruckus that someone would come find him.</p><p>He began rolling back and forth furiously, trying to get enough momentum to go over the side of the bed. When he did manage to roll, he landed on the floor with a great thud. It hurt. The worst part was that he had landed on his front, and something on the floor was pressing against his bladder. He should’ve just stayed on his bed.</p><p>The added pressure on his bladder caused another long spurt of pee to burst out of him. Ron squirmed and wriggled his way off of whatever the object was, and while the pain of laying on something small and pointy had vanished, so had his control.</p><p>It started as a trickle that he couldn’t stop no matter how hard he clenched his muscles. After a few seconds, it became a steady stream. Ron could feel his briefs and pants grow wetter and wetter until the fabric would hold no more urine. A puddle began forming around him.</p><p>He thought that after perhaps a minute or so, he would stop peeing. He didn’t normally pee a ton anyway. But there must have been something about the failed magic in the Bed-Wetter Bag that kept refilling his bladder even as he was emptying it.</p><p>Ron continued to pee long past the point he figured he should have been finished. He figured he was at least two minutes in and still going strong. If anything, the steady stream that his pee had started out as had turned into a torrent. It felt like he’d never stop.</p><p>As he lay there, he felt the puddle beneath him grow to encompass his body from his chest to his knees. And still he kept peeing. Would this torture never end?</p><p>Eventually, he surrendered to his fate. Nobody would find him before he’d peed out every last ounce of liquid from his body. He’d be a dried-out husk. Ron sighed in resignation. Just as he figured he’d die up there, his bedroom door banged open, revealing the twins.</p><p>“Hey Ronniekins!” George called out.</p><p>There was a pause as the twins obviously took in the scene before them. Then—</p><p>“Godric, Ron, I’m sorry.” Fred was kneeling by his head, pulling at the ropes that bound him.</p><p>“Fred, George,” Ron said with feigned patience, “I’m still pissing myself. Would you kindly MAKE IT STOP?!”</p><p>“Blimey!” George hurried over and pulled out his wand. With a quick swish, the purple bag was removed from his hand.</p><p>Ron sighed in relief as he finally felt his pee slow to a trickle and stop. Then he sat up. His clothes were positively drenched in piss, and the puddle on his floor was massive.</p><p>“I think there might be something wrong with your Bed-Wetter Bag,” Ron said sarcastically.</p><p>Fred and George looked at each other. “Maybe this is one product we should keep off the shelves,” Fred said.</p><p>“Gee, you think?”</p>
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<a name="section0011"><h2>11. Public Accident</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Seamus is punished for defying the Carrows.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>Warning: Implied M/M sex.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Public/visible accident: Seamus (7th year)<br/>-----------------------------------</p><p>Seamus writhed in agony on the floor of Amycus Carrow’s office. He couldn’t do much to defy the Death Eaters that ran Hogwarts these days, but he could refuse to torture innocent first years. Study hall had effectively become more of a place to practice Unforgiveable Curses on each other, but Seamus was having none of it. He wasn’t going to use those spells on anyone, especially not defenseless eleven-year-olds. It was inhumane in the worst way.</p><p>He had been punished countless times for refusing to do as he was told. This evening he was being tortured with the Cruciatus Curse because he’d been caught smuggling students out of their common rooms and into the Room of Requirement. Fortunately, the Carrows hadn’t seen specifically what he was doing. All they knew was that he was out of bed after curfew. So he bore the pain of the curse, all the while knowing that Dean would be proud of him for doing what was right.</p><p>Dean. How Seamus missed his best friend. They hadn’t spoken in months, not since Dean stopped by his house the night he ran away from home. It was to protect his family, he’d said. Seamus had cried with Dean that night, and for the first time, they had kissed. Afterward, Seamus said there was no way he could let Dean go. Dean had kissed him again, distracted him, made love to him. When Seamus awoke the next morning, Dean was gone. Only a note on his bedside table remained to remind him of what they’d done.</p><p>The only reason Seamus was able to get out of bed in the morning was because he knew Dean would want him to do the right thing. He knew Dean would be proud of him for protecting those that could not protect themselves. Most of all, he knew he had to fight back so that Dean could come home. Wherever Dean was, Seamus prayed every night that he’d be safe. He didn’t know what he would do if something were to happen to the only person he’d ever been in love with.</p><p>Seamus was rudely brought out of his memories when Amycus lifted the Cruciatus Curse. The Death Eater scowled at him.</p><p>“This doesn’t hurt you nearly enough, does it?” the vile man sneered.</p><p>Seamus spat a mouthful of blood at his feet.</p><p>“I think you need to be taught a different lesson.” With that, Amycus turned and left the room.</p><p>Seamus gingerly got to his feet. He supposed he was free to go. But when he pulled on the doorknob, he found it was locked. He sat on the floor with his back against the wall, doing the only thing he could then: wait.</p><p>Only a few minutes later, Amycus returned with his sister in tow. They both sneered down at him.</p><p>“What should we do to the boy, Alecto?” Amycus asked.</p><p>His sister grinned evilly. “How about we make an example out of him in front of the entire school tomorrow morning,” she said.</p><p>“How do you propose we go about it?”</p><p>In response, Alecto Conjured a pitcher of water and an empty glass. She filled the glass and thrust it into Seamus’s hands. “Drink,” she instructed.</p><p>Seamus lifted an eyebrow. “What the hell is this?”</p><p>“Do as she says, you ingrate!” Amycus roared.</p><p>“I’m not particularly thirsty at the moment, thanks,” Seamus said sarcastically.</p><p>Alecto did not appear phased by his attitude. “I guess we’ll do this the hard way, then.”</p><p>Seamus wondered only briefly what she meant. He was roughly pulled to his feet, then shoved onto a hard wooden chair and tied to it. He couldn’t move even a little bit. Then Alecto picked up the glass of water and placed it against Seamus’s lips.</p><p>“You will do as you are told,” she said before pulling his jaw down and pouring the water in his mouth.</p><p>Seamus sputtered and coughed, but ultimately all he could do was drink the water to avoid inhaling it. It took only a few seconds to drain the cup. Most of it had wound up on his shirt, anyway. Seamus wondered why in the world this was the punishment Alecto had chosen. What exactly was drinking water going to do to him?</p><p>Almost immediately after finishing the first glass of water, Alecto refilled it and forced Seamus to drink again. She repeated the process three more times until the pitcher was empty. Seamus’s stomach was bulging with all the water he’d ingested.</p><p>“Now we wait,” she said in a sickly sweet voice.</p><p>--------------------------</p><p>This process repeated all night long. Seamus figured that by the time the sun came up, he’d had no less than six liters of water since his punishment began. And he sort of thought he’d figured out their evil plan.</p><p>His bladder was incredibly full. In fact, it had been sending him strong signals for the last three hours, but he’d been unable to do anything but sit and drink glass after glass of water forced upon him. He had to piss so very badly.</p><p>But he couldn’t do anything about his need. He couldn’t squirm or hold himself or even tap his foot, that’s how tightly he’d been bound. At long last, Alecto put the glass down on Amycus’s desk.</p><p>“Time for the real fun to begin,” she said.</p><p>Seamus frowned. “What do ye mean?”</p><p>“You’ll see.”</p><p>Amycus levitated Seamus—still tied to the chair—out of the office and down to the Great Hall. Most students were already sitting at their tables, quietly eating breakfast. Seamus’s heart began beating frantically. What were they going to do to him?</p><p>“Your attention, everyone,” Amycus said loudly.</p><p>All eyes moved to the front of the hall, where Seamus was set down. Alecto cooed at him and began removing the ropes holding him to the chair.</p><p>“We have here a student who thinks he knows better than us, your professors,” Alecto said as she untied Seamus.</p><p>“Standard punishments have not worked on him,” Amycus continued. “Therefore, we thought it pertinent to teach him a different sort of lesson. Let it also serve as a warning to the rest of you. Do as you are told, or this will also be your fate.”</p><p>With that, Alecto roughly yanked Seamus to his feet. He gasped as a large spurt of pee burst from his dick at the movement. He bent over and squeezed his muscles to regain control. When he straightened back up, Alecto was smirking viciously at him. She wordlessly cast a Sticking Charm to his feet, then moved to stand behind him so every student could see. Seamus turned his head to look first at her, then at Amycus. They couldn’t mean for him to... Could they?</p><p>Several minutes ticked by slowly, with each second bringing more and more desperation. Before he could think too much about what he was doing, Seamus grabbed his dick through his pants and gave it a squeeze. Yes, it was embarrassing to hold himself so openly in front of the entire school, but was it worse than pissing on himself?</p><p>A few laughs echoed over from the Slytherin table.</p><p>“He’s going to wet himself!” someone shouted.</p><p>Seamus grit his teeth and clenched his muscles harder. Maybe if he held out long enough, the Carrows would get bored and let him go.</p><p>But when ten and then fifteen minutes passed with nothing more happening, Alecto apparently grew bored with waiting. She approached him from behind and placed a hand on his shoulder.</p><p>“Perhaps it’s time to speed things up,” she said loudly. “I think this ought to do it.”</p><p>She pulled out her wand and jabbed it into Seamus’s side, then gave it a rough twist. Instantly, Seamus’s desperation increased tenfold. He cried out and bent over, fighting for control of his bladder. But it was no use.</p><p>First came a spurt of pee that soaked into his briefs. He clenched his dick even harder and pressed his thighs together uselessly. The next spurt would not be stopped. His pee gushed out between his fingers and began running down his legs in rivulets. Seamus was mortified.</p><p>“Not good enough,” Amycus declared.</p><p>The next thing Seamus knew, he was being forced into an upright position with his hands locked to his sides. A Body-Bind Charm. And all he could do was stand there, his pee flowing freely into his pants and pooling at his feet. He could do nothing to stop it.</p><p>Laughter erupted from several people sitting at the Slytherin table. After looking around nervously, most other students began laughing too, albeit halfheartedly. Most of the remaining Gryffindors looked on quietly, sympathy shining on their faces.</p><p>And still Seamus continued to pee. It felt like it went on for nearly three full minutes before his stream slowed and finally stopped. As suddenly as the Body-Bind had been cast upon him, it was removed. Seamus collapsed into his puddle of pee and hung his head in shame.</p><p>“Have you learned your lesson, boy?” Alecto purred.</p><p>Seamus just nodded his head.</p><p>“Good. Now get your filthy self out of here,” Amycus barked. “Be grateful we didn’t make this worse on you.”</p><p>Seamus could only imagine what horrors that might have entailed, but he didn’t waste a moment standing up and running from the Great Hall. Laughter followed in his wake, along with leftover dribbles of piss. He sprinted all the way up to the seventh floor to the Room of Requirement. He’d learned something from his public humiliation, all right. It was time to go into hiding. He’d still venture out at night to rescue students that were being abused, but he couldn’t show his face during the day after this.</p><p>When he entered the Room of Requirement, nobody was crowded around the door as he’d feared they would be. He was able to sneak over to the bathroom and clean up. As he stood under the hot spray of the shower, Seamus silently vowed that the Carrows would pay for what they’d done. It might take a while, but they would get theirs one day.</p>
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<a name="section0012"><h2>12. Trapped and Desperate</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Luna is kidnapped by the Death Eaters while she's on her way to the loo. Oh dear.</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know the chapter is called Trapped and DESPERATE, but since this is Luna Lovegood being featured, I figured that she wouldn't outwardly show desperation as much as other characters. She's aloof and quirky. I hope I did her justice in this portrayal.</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Trapped and desperate<br/>-------------------</p><p>Luna Lovegood was in a bit of a pickle. She had quite literally been on her way to the girls bathroom when Death Eaters had grabbed her and whisked her away from Hogwarts via Portkey. She found herself in a dank basement designed to act as a dungeon. The two masked Death Eaters who had brought her here thankfully didn’t shove her into one of the cages or chain her to the wall. But they did leave the dungeon and lock the door loudly behind them.</p><p>Luna looked around the room with her usual seemingly indifferent air. She was surprised to discover an old man huddled in one corner, a shabby robe wrapped around him like a blanket.</p><p>“Hello,” she said tentatively. “My name’s Luna.”</p><p>The old man looked up, and she recognized him immediately. It was Garrick Ollivander, the wandmaker. She’d gotten her wand from him six years prior.</p><p>“I remember you,” Ollivander said, his voice rusty with disuse. “Oak, eleven inches, unicorn hair core.”</p><p>“That’s right,” Luna said. “Although the Death Eaters that brought me here took it. I suppose I’ll have to get a new one at some point.”</p><p>Ollivander shook his head. “You likely won’t ever get out of here.”</p><p>“Oh, I’m not worried about that,” she told him. “The Wrackspurts have already told me we’ll be fine.”</p><p>“Girl, this is no time for nonsense. It’s best if you accept your fate and don’t fight the Death Eaters. You won’t like the punishments you get if you do.”</p><p>Luna frowned, her brow creasing in concern. “Have they tortured you often?” she asked.</p><p>“Not so much lately,” Ollivander said. “But when I first got here, I defied them as often as I could. I even attacked a Death Eater in an attempt to escape. But they kept me down here for days without food or water. Their favorite punishments often include humiliation.”</p><p>“How odd,” Luna said. “That seems quite silly, considering we’re the only ones here.”</p><p>“You’ll know what I mean soon enough,” he said resignedly. “They took the bucket with them when they locked you in here.”</p><p>“The bucket?”</p><p>“The one we’re supposed to use... You know, to relieve ourselves.”</p><p>Luna’s eyes went wide. “Oh, I see. That is quite unfortunate.”</p><p>“Be thankful they haven’t forced you to drink several liters of water first.” The old man shook his head. “They’re barbarians, the lot of them.”</p><p>“Yes, I’m a bit familiar with that tactic,” she confided. “A friend of mine at school, Seamus, they did that to him just before Christmas. It was quite awful. I felt so bad for him.”</p><p>“Well, you’re about to experience something similar,” Ollivander warned.</p><p>“I daresay I’m not,” Luna corrected. “I’m not in front of the entire school. Just someone else who understands the cruelty about to be inflicted upon me. I think I might not mind it too much if you don’t laugh at me.”</p><p>“I promise not to laugh if you do,” Ollivander muttered.</p><p>“It’s a deal.”</p><p>-----------------</p><p>Luna only made it another hour before she was truly desperate to pee. She hadn’t been in dire straits when the Death Eaters grabbed her, luckily. She was just heading to the loo because her bladder had signaled to her that she should. Now, however, she was growing quite uncomfortable.</p><p>She and Ollivander had lapsed into silence a while ago. She assumed it was because he’d fallen asleep. Well, that and she was focusing so much on not wetting herself that she didn’t have the attention span to continue a conversation. A part of her suggested she simply pull down her pants and squat in the corner to relieve herself. Another smaller, and quite curious, side of her suggested she fight to the death. What would it feel like if she did wet herself?</p><p>Luna would be the first to admit that she was odd, and her curiosity almost always led her to take part in strange or risky behaviors. This one wouldn’t be the weirdest she’d ever been in, but it was definitely in the top ten. She wondered if she could play it off like she’d fallen asleep and wet herself then.</p><p>Soon enough, her bladder was throbbing with the need to let go. She leaned against the wall where Ollivander couldn’t see her and pressed both hands into her crotch. It helped a little bit, but she knew she wouldn’t be able to keep her pee in forever.</p><p>Just then, a spurt of pee escaped and dampened her panties. Being who she was, Luna figured that since she was already about to lose it, she’d stop fighting. She didn’t want to soak her clothes, though. That would surely result in discomfort later. With brief consideration, Luna hurried to stand up. She lost another spurt as she did, and she was almost unable to regain control. But she clenched her muscles as hard as she could, and proceeded to strip off her pants.</p><p>She listened carefully for Ollivander’s snores before she continued. She tossed her pants into a pile a few feet away from herself, then just stood in her little alcove in only her shirt and panties. Luna felt the crotch of her panties and was slightly surprised they weren’t more wet.</p><p>As this thought formed, a third spurt of pee escaped. This time, she felt the wetness bloom against her fingers. It was quite an interesting sensation. With curiosity filling her, Luna relaxed her muscles just enough for another burst of pee to spread in her panties. It was actually starting to feel...nice? That was strange.</p><p>Luna continued to test her control over her bladder muscles. She repeatedly relaxed enough for a small leak, then clenched back up. After the fourth time of doing this, her fingers were dripping with pee, and little trickles had started running down her left leg. The next time she moved to let out just a bit, she found herself unable to tighten her pelvic muscles enough to stop the flow.</p><p>Pee gushed out of her. She felt it flood her panties and drip from her fingers to the cement floor below. Urine streaked down both of her legs to pool at her bare feet. It was hot and wet and still quite strange. The relief she felt at emptying her bladder was quite a high, though.</p><p>It took less than a minute for her pee to come to an end. Luna stood there in her puddle, her panties dripping. It wasn’t as bad as she’d thought it would be, all things considered. She was going to consider her experiment a success. She stepped out of her puddle, which admittedly wasn’t very large at all (she had a rather small bladder). She waited for a few minutes until her panties stopped dripping and her legs dried. Then she pulled her pants back on and moved to sit in another spot of the dungeon.</p><p>She thought that maybe she’d do that again sometime when Ollivander was asleep. At least it would break up the boredom of being down here, if nothing else.</p>
  </div></div>
<a name="section0013"><h2>13. Bedwetting</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Harry's been struggling with wetting the bed since he defeated Voldemort. He's kept it a secret until now. What happens when Ginny finds out?</p>
          </blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Bedwetting: Harry (summer, 1999)<br/>-----------------------------</p><p>“Oh, Godric, not again,” Harry whimpered.</p><p>He sat up in bed, the damp sheets pooling at his waist and sticking to his wet pajama bottoms. He’d had a bit of a problem with bedwetting since the war ended last year. For the first several months, he was able to hide the problem simply because he lived alone.</p><p>After Ginny graduated from Hogwarts, they’d decided to move in together. That first night was torture for Harry. He had fretted endlessly that he’d wet himself the first time they shared a bed, and it nearly drove him crazy. When he finally had fallen asleep, he hadn’t had so much as a nightmare. He’d awoken to dry bedding—but his bladder had been incredibly full. He’d barely made it to the bathroom, but he had made it.</p><p>Night after night passed without wet sheets, until Harry began to think he had finally grown out of his problem. Then came Ginny’s first sleepaway Quidditch training camp. The Harpies would be gone for a three-day weekend, training for their first match of the season.</p><p>Harry had wet the bed for the first time in three months that night. The next night, too. And the one after that. But as soon as Ginny got home, he slept through the night without wetting. He finally realized that her presence calmed him enough that didn’t have nightmares (which were ultimately the cause of his bedwetting). While he didn’t particularly enjoy wetting the bed, Harry figured it would be okay if it only happened when Ginny was away.</p><p>That was the situation he now found himself in. Ginny was away at training camp for the weekend, and he’d had horrific nightmares all night long. He plucked at the sheets around his waist. As if it weren’t bad enough that he’d wet the bed again, Harry suddenly realized that he was in great need of a piss just then. In despair, he simply relaxed his muscles and let his pee flow into the wet bedding. What did it matter, anyway?</p><p>When his bladder was empty, he grabbed his wand from the bedside table and cast several cleaning charms. When he wasn’t convinced that the bedding didn’t reek of his piss, he stripped it all off and went down the hall to shove it in the washing machine. Then he took a long shower, hoping to wash away the shame of being a bedwetter.<br/>He was too old for this to be happening. At the age of nineteen, Harry knew he should most definitely not be having this problem. His only consolation was that he had kept it a secret from his girlfriend. But at some point, he wanted to propose to her and get married. How was he supposed to continue to keep it a secret indefinitely? He was terrified that Ginny would leave him if she found out. How could he propose to her with such a heavy weight on his heart?</p><p>-----------------------------</p><p>The next night, Harry awoke in the middle of wetting the bed. Something had roused him. He quickly clamped down on his muscles and stopped the flow of his pee. In the darkness of his bedroom, he couldn’t figure out what had awoken him.</p><p>“Harry? Are you awake?” a voice whispered beside him.</p><p>Harry jumped, causing a spurt of pee to leak into his wet pajama pants. “Ginny?”</p><p>A small light flickered to life, and he could see Ginny lying in bed beside him. She was on her side, propping her head up on one hand. “Are you all right?”</p><p>“I—” he began. “What are you doing home?”</p><p>She shrugged one shoulder. “I had a really strong feeling that you needed me, so I left early. The rest of the team didn’t mind too much. We weren’t going to do any practice in the morning anyway.”</p><p>Harry gulped, feeling the wet sheets beneath him. “So, uh,” he stuttered.</p><p>“It’s okay,” Ginny murmured soothingly. “I’ve known about it for a while now.”</p><p>“Known about what?” Harry asked, his voice pitched a little too high.</p><p>“Oh, Harry,” she said a little sadly. “I had really hoped you’d tell me when you were ready, which is why I haven’t said anything.”</p><p>“What are you talking about?” he asked, feeling panic rising in his chest. He knew, but he didn’t want to admit it.</p><p>“You’ve been wetting the bed since the war ended, love.” Ginny still looked at him with sympathy in her eyes.</p><p>Harry looked away from her. “Are you going to laugh at me now?”</p><p>She reached out and pulled his face toward her so that he had no choice but to look at her again. “Harry James Potter, you can be so obtuse sometimes.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“I love you, no matter what. You are completely justified in having this problem. I struggled for almost three years after the diary incident in my first year. I would never judge you for this.”</p><p>“H-how long have you known?” Harry made himself ask.</p><p>“Do you remember the night after the war ended?” Ginny asked him. At his nod, she continued, “I was having nightmares about losing Fred, so I snuck into your room and climbed into bed with you. You were restless when I got there, but calmed down almost as soon as I snuggled up to you. It was a few moments before I realized that you had settled down because you were, well, wetting the bed.”</p><p>“Oh, Godric, I peed on you?!” Harry exclaimed, horrified.</p><p>Ginny nodded. “I didn’t care then, and I don’t care now. I used a spell to clean it up that night. I do that now, too.”</p><p>“Wait, what?” Harry’s eyes were bugging out of his head. “You mean I do still wet the bed when you’re home?”</p><p>“I’m sorry,” she whispered. “I just instinctively knew how you’d feel, that you’d somehow think I would hate you for it. But it’s not your fault. I wanted you to feel safe and protected. That’s why I clean the sheets every morning before you wake up.”</p><p>“Ginny, I—” Harry broke off to clear the lump from his throat. “I’m ashamed of myself. This is disgusting.”</p><p>“Harry, it’s not as bad as you think,” she consoled. “I don’t need to be a mind-reader to know that your aunt and uncle were abusive to you as a child. I’m sure that they made a big deal any time they caught you in a wet bed, right?”</p><p>Harry just nodded.</p><p>“It’s not such a horrific thing in the Wizarding world because we have magic to clean up when it happens. You don’t have to be embarrassed about this.” Ginny leaned forward and kissed him sweetly. “I still love you. I’m not going to leave you because of this.”</p><p>A lone tear rolled down his cheek. “Yeah, okay.” After a moment, he said, “I hate to interrupt a sweet moment, but I really need to take a leak right now.”</p><p>“Yes, I know, you woke up in the middle of wetting,” Ginny said, a half-smile on her face. “You can just finish in bed if you really want to.”</p><p>Harry shook his head adamantly. “I don’t, though. I realize now that I don’t have to hide this from you, but that doesn’t mean I want it to continue.”</p><p>She nodded. “I understand. I’ll clean up the little bit here while you finish up, then.”</p><p>“I love you so much, Ginny.” He gave her a quick peck on the lips before clambering out of bed and hurrying to the bathroom.</p><p>He made it, thankfully, and then he changed into clean briefs and pajama pants. When he went back to bed, Ginny was lying there waiting for him, and the sheets and bedspread were dry.</p><p>“I love you, too.”</p>
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<a name="section0014"><h2>14. Put in Diapers</h2></a>
<div class="story"><div class="fff_chapter_notes fff_head_notes"><b>Summary for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff">
            <p>Continued from last chapter!!<br/>Harry's bedwetting hasn't improved. If anything, it's gotten worse. What's the solution? Nappies, of course!</p>
          </blockquote><b>Notes for the Chapter:</b><blockquote class="userstuff"><p>I know the point of Omovember is to write one chapter for every day of the month (and was behind, anyway), but the prompts have kind of stopped inspiring me. So for right now, I think this will be the last chapter. I might add a new one here and there if I get the inspiration, but I can't guarantee it. Sorry in advance, my kinky friends! :(</p></blockquote></div><div class="userstuff module">
    
    <p>Put in a diaper: Harry (continuation of last chapter)<br/>
-------------------------------------------</p><p>After Ginny told him that she knew about his bedwetting, Harry felt a deep sense of peace. He was no longer terrified that she would leave him over it, and he didn’t agonize over keeping a huge secret from the woman he loved. The only thing he would really change was the fact that he was still wetting the bed. He was still quite bothered by that.</p><p>One morning, after waking before Ginny to see that he had wet the bed again, he huffed in frustration as he pulled out his wand to cast cleaning charms. Ginny woke up just as he was putting his wand back down. He quickly blinked away his tears of frustration and self-loathing, but not before she noticed.</p><p>“Harry,” she said, sympathy in her voice.</p><p>“Don’t, Ginny,” he said somewhat gruffly. “I don’t really want to talk about it today.”</p><p>“I just wish you wouldn’t beat yourself up about it, that’s all,” she replied.</p><p>“I know.”</p><p>He got out of bed and went to the bathroom to take a shower. As he scrubbed his skin, he thought back over the last several months. It had been four months since Ginny admitted she’d known about his problem. In that time, somehow his control over his bladder seemed to be worsening. He wet the bed more nights than not, and he even struggled with making it to the bathroom on time during the day more and more often.</p><p>In fact, the day before yesterday he’d had an outright accident while at work. Harry had been so busy with paperwork, of all things, that he hadn’t paid attention to the signals his bladder was sending him until it was almost too late. He started at the first leak and was able to clench his muscles enough to stand up and leave the office without embarrassing himself. Unfortunately, he was so far beyond full that he was leaking spurts of piss with every step he took. When he reached the bathroom, he managed to shut himself in a stall just before the floodgates opened entirely, and he was earnestly pissing himself. He sat on the toilet fully clothed, but that obviously didn’t help things. He’d been mortified.</p><p>This wasn’t something he’d told Ginny about, either. He hadn’t confided in her that he thought things were getting worse, that somehow his potty-training skills were deserting him. How did you even have that conversation with someone?</p><p>At long last, Harry climbed out of the shower and got dressed. He went into the kitchen to find that Ginny was making breakfast. She was so good to him. He came up behind her and wrapped his arms around her waist. She leaned back against him.</p><p>“Hey. Feeling better?” she asked.</p><p>Harry shrugged. “I guess so.”</p><p>“What do you want to do today?”</p><p>“Can we just stay in? I don’t want to do anything.”</p><p>“That sounds great to me. I love lazy Sundays.”</p><p>“Need any help?”</p><p>Ginny shook her head. “Nah, I’m almost done. If you want, I can bring the food into the front room when it’s ready.”</p><p>“Yeah,” Harry agreed. “Maybe I’ll find something to watch on the telly.”</p><p>“I still can’t quite get my head around that magic picture box,” Ginny said, smirking.</p><p>“It’s not magic, Gin,” Harry said, rolling his eyes.</p><p>“Well, duh,” she said back. “I just like the reaction I get out of you when I say it is.”</p><p>Harry snorted and went into the front room. He turned on the TV and began flipping through the channels. He wound up choosing an old cartoon that he used to try and watch with Dudley when they were younger.</p><p>He was just settling in when Ginny walked in with plates of bacon and eggs. She handed one to him, then sat beside him on the couch. They both began eating, watching the cartoon with interest. It was about a talking dog that solved mysteries.</p><p>Harry had nearly finished his breakfast when a most unexpected thing happened. Without any warning whatsoever, his bladder decided that that moment was the perfect one to release. He was sitting on the couch, pissing his pants. He couldn’t clench his muscles enough to stop the flow.</p><p>“What the hell?!” he shouted. He hurriedly put his plate on the coffee table and shoved both hands into his crotch. “Why am I peeing?”</p><p>Ginny watched it all happen, concern written on her face. She set her plate on the coffee table as well, then appeared to be waiting for his pee to stop before saying anything.</p><p>Harry was horrified. He had no inkling of needing to pee, yet here he was pissing buckets into his clean trousers. He was peeing all over their couch! He couldn’t stop it, no matter what he tried. Tears began to leak from his eyes as his flow finally slowed and stopped.</p><p>“Ginny,” he said raggedly. “I don’t—”</p><p>“Shh, Harry, it’s okay,” she said gently. She pulled out her wand and cleaned everything up with a quick wave. “No harm done.”</p><p>Harry buried his face in his hands. “It’s been getting worse,” he said, sounding muffled.</p><p>“What has?”</p><p>“My control,” he whispered. “This isn’t the first time I’ve wet myself during the day.”</p><p>Ginny put a hand on Harry’s knee. “What can I do to help?”</p><p>He shook his head. “I don’t know. I don’t know what’s wrong or how to fix it. I hate it.”</p><p>“Well,” she said slowly. “I have an idea, though you might not be too fond of it.”</p><p>“What?”</p><p>“When I was having trouble after first year, Mum and Dad put me back in nappies for a while. Maybe we could do that for you?” Ginny waited, looking apprehensive while he considered her words.</p><p>“I...” After a lengthy pause, he said, “I actually don’t hate the idea.”</p><p>Ginny smiled at him. “Okay, then. Nobody besides the two of us needs to know about this, if you don’t want them to.”</p><p>“I don’t,” Harry reiterated.</p><p>“And that’s perfectly fine. We can order adult nappies anonymously from a store I know of.”</p><p>Harry looked at her. “What store?”</p><p>“Well, it’s deep in Knockturn Alley, but not because they sell Dark magic or anything. It’s... Well, it’s a sex shop.”</p><p>His eyes widened. “Oh. How do you know about it?”</p><p>“Luna told me about it.”</p><p>Harry grinned. “Figures.”</p><p>Ginny chuckled. “Let me just grab a few Galleons, and I’ll write a note requesting what we’ll need.”</p><p>“Thank you, Gin,” Harry said sincerely. “I don’t know what I’d have done...”</p><p>“Anything for you, love.”</p><p>--------------------------</p><p>About an hour later, Ginny’s owl returned with a package tied to its leg. It was wrapped in plain brown paper with a string tied around it. Perfectly anonymous. Ginny gave her owl a treat and proceeded to open the box. Harry stood next to her in the kitchen, nervously watching.</p><p>The first thing she pulled out was a rather large package of adult diapers. Strangely enough, the diapers had a pattern of snitches and broomsticks printed all across them. Harry found he rather liked that. Next she pulled out a container of baby wipes, which he guessed made sense if they couldn’t use magic for whatever reason. The last thing Ginny pulled from the box threw Harry for a loop. It was an adult-sized onesie. It had cartoon Quidditch characters on it.</p><p>“Wh-what’s that for?” he asked nervously.</p><p>“It’s to help hold the diapers in place,” she said calmly. “I’ve got a few others in here, too.”</p><p>“Do I have to wear it?”</p><p>Ginny shook her head. “No, not if you don’t want to. I just ordered them because I thought they would help.”</p><p>“Maybe I’ll try one for bed or something,” Harry acquiesced. “But not when I have to go to work or something.”</p><p>“Whatever you’re comfortable with,” she agreed. “Shall we get you changed into a diaper now?”</p><p>After only the briefest hesitation, he nodded. “Considering what happened earlier this morning, I don’t think I’ll know the next time I need to pee. It’s probably for the best.”</p><p>“Do you want to do it by yourself?” she asked.</p><p>He scuffed one bare foot on the floor. “I don’t think I’d know how.”</p><p>“That’s okay, too,” Ginny said. “I’ll help you if you’d like.”</p><p>“Please,” he whispered.</p><p>“You’ll need to strip down, then.”</p><p>He blushed, even though she’d seen him naked before. He did as she requested, but paused when he moved to pull off his shirt.</p><p>“C-can I actually try a onesie?” he asked, fingering the hem of his shirt.</p><p>“Whatever you want,” she said, smiling. “Do you have a particular one in mind?"</p><p>He shook his head. “No, you pick.” He pulled his shirt over his head and stood there, naked, waiting for Ginny to give him further instruction.</p><p>She gathered a diaper and onesie from the kitchen counter, then scooped his discarded clothes off the floor where he’d left them. Then she steered him into the front room.</p><p>“Lay on the couch,” she told him. “It’ll be more comfortable.”</p><p>“Okay.” Harry did so, leaving just enough room at the end of the couch for Ginny.</p><p>She sat by his feet, then placed her armful of stuff on the floor beside her. She reached into her pile and pulled out the diaper. She unfolded it and gave it a firm shake to prepare it, then gestured at Harry’s midsection. His cheeks burning once again, he lifted his hips so she could place the diaper beneath him. Then he laid there, trying hard not to stare down his torso at himself as she folded the diaper over his privates and taped it up.</p><p>It turned out Ginny had diapered Harry in the nick of time, for no sooner had she bent over to retrieve the onesie than Harry began peeing forcefully. Ginny looked up at him, her expression of shock mirroring his, as his pee hissed loudly against the nappy. Harry tried not to enjoy the feeling of his pee warming his privates and filling the diaper. It didn’t feel good, he told himself. He didn’t feel comforted or sleepy.</p><p>When he was done peeing, he looked back at Ginny. “I— Sorry.”</p><p>She shook her head. “That’s literally what it’s there for,” she said. “I’m glad you were at least in a diaper before it happened again. I hate it when you look as sad as you did earlier.”</p><p>Harry nodded. “I’m glad this thing was on, too.”</p><p>“Well, I guess I’d better get a new one,” Ginny said as she stood up. “Be right back.”</p><p>“I’ll wait here, I suppose,” he replied.</p><p>Harry placed one hand against the front of his wet diaper. He tried not to like the feeling of the warmth and bulk of the diaper beneath his hand. This was for practical reasons, wasn’t it?</p><p>Ginny returned to the front room with a fresh nappy. She reached out to undo the tapes, but hesitated when her fingers brushed it. “Are you sure you don’t have to go again?” she asked.</p><p>Harry shrugged. “I’m not sure about anything related to my bladder anymore.”</p><p>“Fair enough.”</p><p>With that, she proceeded to remove the soaked diaper. She cast a quick cleaning charm over him before having him lift his hips for a fresh nappy. Harry began to feel relaxed as Ginny folded the clean diaper over him and taped it in place. His eyes began to droop. Gently, Ginny directed Harry’s head into a plain white onesie, then worked his arms through the sleeves and pulled it down over his body. She stretched it around his diaper, then fastened it.</p><p>“Do you want your regular clothes?” she asked him.</p><p>Sleepily, Harry shook his head. All he really wanted was to lay back down, put his head in her lap, and watch cartoons.</p><p>------------------------------</p><p>It turned out that Harry enjoyed being in diapers far more than he thought he would. Even more than that, he loved the way Ginny took care of him when he was at home with her. He figured out how to change his own diaper for those times when she was away, or for the occasion when he had to change at work, but she tended to change his nappies when they were together. He preferred it that way.</p><p>One thing they did discover early on was that Harry was able to control his bowels on his own. He was grateful for that. He had no desire to require that much care. But he was finding that he didn’t mind the rest.</p><p>As the months wore on, Harry began to notice the faintest twinge right before he would wet himself. It was hardly noticeable unless he was sitting still, and it didn’t give him enough warning to actually make it to a bathroom before he was flooding his diaper, but that was okay. He had grown to enjoy his diapers, as strange as that seemed. At this point, he couldn’t imagine life without them.</p>
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